Cracked
by Ginny Perry
Summary: Preteen N just wants to play with his blocks. Ghetsis wants to play a new game. Ghetsis/N Harmoniashipping ... Contains yaoi/shouta/violence!


Ahh yes, another Ghetsis/N fic from me. My online buddies and I have made our own livejournal group and we have been inspiring each other with prompts and such. If you have any requests or want to join, shoot me a message and I'll give you the info. We have lots of fun :D

As usual, **this story is NOT for everyone**. Violence, blood, humiliation, rape (sort of), shota, abuse. If you don't like this sort of stuff, please don't read.

And please, if you enjoy, review! I accept criticisms as well as compliments. I love reviews, they inspire me to write more~

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A little music box, tinkering a playful melody. This was the only sound N heard as he built a tower out of blocks. At twelve years old, he would have seemed much too old for such a thing. But to him, it was all he knew. He had no concept of age-appropriateness; nothing to base it off of. They were the same blocks he built wobbly structures out of when he was three. The colored wood was fading from overuse, but this was somehow comforting to him. N could see their age, could feel the wood progressively splinter throughout his lifetime. Some of them were beginning to split. He was more gentle to those blocks.

His towers now were much more sound than those he had made years ago. He had learned, through practice, how to make them sturdier. A strong base provided more stability to build the tower higher. His companion Pokemon had often accidentally knocked his elementary towers down simply by the vibrations of their footsteps reverberating across the floor.

As a child, this never made him cry. N knew they didn't mean to. He could sense their apologies even by the expressions on their faces. He never failed to smile at them, letting them know he understood.

N stood up from the structure he had been building and strolled across the room towards his toybox. He went to gather more arched blocks for his tower. Opening the lid of the chest, he diligently dug through the chest, searching for his pieces. The loud sound of wood thumping against itself and the chest was loud... enough to drown out the sound of a door being slowly opened, shut and locked.

The sound of blocks tumbling over echoed through the air. Concerned and confused, N turned around. His heart felt like it had jumped out of his chest. His father was slowly walking, practically creeping, towards him.

"Hello, N," he stated simply, smiling at his son. But his smile was not sincere; it had a twinge of malice to it, a difference N had only recently begun to pick up. He pretended to be oblivious to it and to hide his fear, praying that he may trick himself into believing that Ghetsis had good intentions.

"Hello... Ghetsis." Shit, that was close. He had nearly said 'father' again. Ghetsis had begun demanding N use his name. He wasn't sure if it was to fool others, to show him more respect, or for some other sick, unknown reason. But N obeyed, and he did all he could _not_ to forget. N noticed his block tower that he had been working hard on had been crumpled to the ground behind his approaching father.

"What's the matter, boy?" Ghetsis asked, stopping two steps in front of him. Apparently, N had made some sort of facial expression or body movement or _something_ to grab his father's attention and show him the disconcertment he felt. He had worked so hard on those blocks, only to his efforts nullified by one heartless gesture. N stood up, mouth slightly agape, trying to think of a decent lie. "_Well_?" his father urged, impatience discernable in his voice.

N couldn't think of a lie fast enough. But something was better than nothing.

"My blocks," he admitted. "You... knocked over my blocks." Ghetsis wanted so badly to insult him for being much too old for playing with young children's toys. But he knew he had to continue warping N's perception of reality. _You should be greatful he continues doing this_, Ghetsis thought to himself. Originally, he had been skeptical of his plan. But leaving a boy without much of any human contact in a playroom for twelve years had proven a quite easy method for control.

"Must I remind you that if you are to be king of Team Plasma, you will have to learn to remain stoic at all times." Ghetsis was pleased with what he came up with. This would allow him to easily transition into what he had craving for quite some time. N was unsure of the word's meaning, but he didn't dare ask, for fear of looking stupid.

Without warning, N felt a forceful shove and he stumbled back onto his toychest. He stumbled into a seated position, striking his head awkwardly against the wall. He grimaced and groaned while water accumulated along his eyelids. Ghetsis laced his fingers into N's long hair and twisted painfully, yanking his son up off the box.

"You will have to learn to remain _stoic_ at all times," Ghetsis repeated slowly, his face portraying anger and a fragment of contentment. By now, N knew what he meant. Ghetsis yanked down on his son's hair, forcing his head down and his immaculate neck clearly exposed. His old assaults on his son's neck had healed nicely, leaving absolutely no trace of ever existing. Which made this time potentially as sweet as the last.

Ghetsis could not help himself. His son's body was like a canvas to him, so pure. Almost all marks he had made on him, sans a few scars, had faded throughout the years. Seeing his pale white skin without any blemishes made him crave it. Crave ruining it once again. Covering it in bruises, blood and sweat.

With one fluid motion, Ghetsis swung his son into his toybox. N's face collided with the edge of the chest, right at the bridge of his nose, and he collapsed to the ground. Blood began flowing steadily out of his nose, dripping onto his pants and staining the cloud-covered carpet. N brought his hands to his face, attempting to both hide the blood from his father and prevent it from making a mess. Tears fell from his eyes, running down his cheeks and wetting his face even more. He panted harshly, trying so hard to hold back a whimper...

"Stand up," Ghetsis commanded. Slowly, N put one hand on the toybox and pushed himself to his feet. He turned around and faced his father, his other hand still at his face. "Take your hand away from your face, N." He knew not to question it, even though his instincts told him to run. He knew there was no use in it. N had only needed to learn that lesson once as a boy.

He dropped his covering hand to his side, letting the small pool of blood run off his fingers. Red rivulets streaked his face, running down his neck and on his white long-sleeved shirt. His fingers and lips twitched in nervous fear. Ghetsis said nothing as his son visibly tried to hold back his tears, trying to remain as composed as possible.

N's eyes overflowed with tears as he gasped raggedly and then bawled. He fell to his knees, covering his face again. His fear and embarassment and pain and sense of failure all swelled into him at once, erupting into a humiliating display of his emotions right in front of his father.

N expected an abusive comment or a slap to the face. Ghetsis almost instinctively knew it. Instead, Ghetsis pushed N's arms away from him and proceeded to slowly lick along a streak of blood on his neck. N froze, both surprised and hesitant of the feeling it was eliciting. His crying stopped when he felt a strange feeling shoot through his body.

Ghetsis smiled, savoring the taste of his preteenage son. The boy was growing, it was quite obvious to him. A piece of him missed his childhood body; it was so small, so easy to manipulate. But N was still quite young and weak. He was very thin and still quite short for his age. Even though he was just starting puberty, he still retained his feminine features and childlike mannerisms. Perhaps he could make his son enjoy this...

"If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?" Ghetsis purred into his son's ear. "Tell me the truth, dear N." N was conflicted; it was hard enough to answer his question with his father's warm breath grazing against the back of his neck. His head hurt so much... his thoughts barely came through comprehensibly.

"I'd want you... to play blocks with me." It was true, after all. His fuzzy mental image of the scene was during a much happier time though, where N's face wasn't swollen and dripping blood. He wasn't quite sure if telling his father the truth was a good thing, but the splitting headache was clouding his better judgment.

Ghetsis was surprised by his son's answer, but was quickly able to react. His son was amazingly _more_ naive than he had originally thought. At such a time like this, he'd want to play. That tower he knocked over must have meant more to him than he had thought. "And I'd imagine a bloody nose is not part of that, am I right?"

Ghetsis took his son by his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. He offered his robe up to his son's face and gently held it above his lip. His face seemed sincere to N, which only confused him further. A look of true concern. For that moment, N felt a feeling he had not felt for as long as he could remember: security. His tears stopped, feeling extremely comforted by his father's touch. His blood was staining Ghetsis's exquisite sage robe, yet he seemed to not care at all.

"T-Thank you, Ghetsis, I-"

"Shh," Ghetsis cooed. "It's okay, N. The bleeding has almost stopped." N smiled, thoroughly touched by his father's sudden caring nature. "Let's rebuild your block tower." Ghetsis helped his staggering body up. He could tell his son was disoriented. He must've hit his head harder than he had thought. No matter; this was simply becoming more interesting.

The two of them walked over to the area of scattered blocks. Ghetsis helped N sit down gently and he sat next to him. He was a bit apprehensive about playing with toys; it just didn't seem right to him. A grown man, building things out of blocks with his preteen age son. He was unsure how to even initiate the task. But Ghetsis knew it had to be done. After all, he wanted to seem sincere to the boy.

"What were you building?" Ghetsis asked. N smiled again, a peculiar look coupled with his spacey eyes. He inelegantly wiped the last drabble of blood from under his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.

"My own castle," N replied simply. His shortness irritated Ghetsis a bit, but he suppressed his anger. N awkwardly began arranging the blocks of wood in a square pattern on the floor. Ghetsis attempted to join in, placing new blocks on top of the others.

A smile remained plastered on N's face, expressing his utter joy. His headache was pounding but he barely noticed. He was finally playing with his father, an activity he had waited for for practically his whole life! Had he been in a more conscious state, he probably would've realized how much it seemed too good to be true.

Within minutes, the two had made a simple castle together. For Ghetsis, it was a painful task. He was impatient with his son, who seemed to do things much too slowly for his tastes. He didn't know if it was because he had hit his head or whether N always played like this.

"I want to get more blocks!" N said, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. Ghetsis groaned but stood up. He offered his son his hand to help him get up. N's smile widened as he grabbed his father's outstretched hand. N stood up quickly. As soon as he went to take a step, he stumbled and fell back onto the blocks, his head temporarily overcome with blackness over the sudden rush of blood.

Ghetsis smiled. It was becoming too easy. This wasn't even part of his plan. It was working out so beautifully.

N cringed, grabbing his head that had again been bumped. Edges of the splintered blocks ground into his body awkwardly, causing much discomfort. Tears returned, settling in the corners of his eyes. Throbbing pain returned to his head and his body ached.

He reached his hand out to his father, hoping for his outstretched arm. But only air greeted him.

"N," Ghetsis said to him, looking down at the frightened boy, "it's time to play a new game." Swiftly, his father removed his sage robes, leaving him with only a thin turtlenecked shirt and black boxers. N's eyes widened, fear overcoming his body again.

"But daddy I-" Ghetsis's face burned with outrage over his use of such a disrespectful title. He quickly knelt down and grabbed his son's chin, forcing him to look up at him. His nails dug into his son's face.

"You forgot my proper title," he said softly, gritting his teeth. N squirmed under him, his instincts telling him to fight back. The blocks under him were so uncomfortable...

"I'm sorry!" he cried. Ghetsis let go of his son and grabbed his cloak that had been tossed aside.

"How long has it been since you and I played my game together, N?" While he spoke, Ghetsis yanked his son's arms up above him and tried his wrists together with the thin material of his robes. N attempted to squirm away from his father, but his face was met with a hard slap from the back of Ghetsis's hand. It was enough to make him see stars again.

"I... I don't know..." Ghetsis began to unbutton his son's pants. His body froze from the touch, making the task much less difficult than it normally was. "Please...!" N begged, his legs beginning to tremble, "Please, Ghetsis, don't do this! I don't like playing this game...!" Ghetsis chuckled, loving the fear he detected in his voice.

"I didn't like playing _your_ game, N, but I did because you wanted to. Sometimes, when you care about someone, you do things for them even if you don't want to." God, this was so easy. He had only played blocks with his son to make him feel a sense of security, a wall Ghetsis sadistically wanted to tear down with one act of betrayal. He loved the look on N's face when he was so crushed. Especially now, being older. Humiliating the boy into acting like a young child, left only with his raw emotions when faced with something overwhelming. It made him feel so powerful.

With that comment, N stopped protesting. He felt guilty now, like he had hurt his father's feelings.

"Besides, I think you will enjoy it this time. I'll make sure of it." With that, Ghetsis pressed his lips against his son's, slinking his tongue into the boy's mouth. N allowed it with hesitance, although he did not return the kisses. Ghetsis savored the taste of his son, the action causing him to become aroused quickly. As much as he hated being a selfless lover, he knew what his goal was this time. He _wanted_ him to enjoy it.

Ghetsis pushed his head to the side and began kissing softly down N's neck. One hand slid itself down his chest and wrapped itself around his semi-hard member. Ghetsis smiled when he noticed his son was slightly aroused.

"You see N?" Ghetsis murmured against his neck. "If you relax, it will feel good. Does it hurt?" N looked down at his growing erection while his father started pumping it slowly. His eyes narrowed in both pleasure and embarrassment. Whatever he was doing, it felt incredible. It was a feeling so new to him; still, it felt odd and slightly wrong to him in his mind. N shook his head.

Ghetsis was becoming impatient again. He wished he could just fuck the boy and be done with it like he often did. But the thought of his son coming to this 'game' they played just seemed too good to pass up. Perhaps the degrading feeling would break N down further.

Ohh yes, this was going to be enjoyable.

Ghetsis felt his son begin pushing his hips against his hands as he stroked him. N's face was red now, his eyes glistening but tears but also desire. N felt like he was barely in control of himself anymore; the movements were almost automatic. The feeling felt so good...

To N's displeasure, Ghetsis let go of his erection. His hips twisted uncomfortably, begging to be touched. Ghetsis held his legs still and entered a digit into his entrance. Suddenly, N cried out, his body tensing and tightening up.

"_Relax_," Ghetsis demanded, frustrated with his son's over reactive behavior. The feeling instantly reminded him of the times he had been violated before by his father, painful times that he tried so hard to forget. "You're going to enjoy this game, N. I promise, it's going to be fun."

Ghetsis entered a second and third finger into his son, half-hazardly attempting to prepare him for his own erection. He had never done this before; he never cared enough to. Ghetsis _wanted_ his son to hurt, and this seemed to make the activity less painful for him. But this time, he wanted to make N hurt on a whole different level.

He released his own cock from his undergarments, already rock hard and beaded with precome. Pumping himself a few times, Ghetsis lined up with this son's entrance. He had forgotten to warn his son that he was entering him, but he was too excited for the task that had presented itself.

As Ghetsis pushed into him, N screamed. He shifted and twisted his body uncontrollably, terror taking over. All N could think about was how much this had always hurt. Every time, his father would thrust into him and tear away at him, the pain always so excruciating. Ghetsis was annoyed by his son's display, especially since he had taken the time to prepare him.

But Ghetsis didn't care anymore. Tired of being so deliberate, he began thrusting into N at his own pace. Ghetsis wrapped his hands around his son's member again, stroking it as he pushed into him. N's cries began to fade into what sounded like cries of pleasure.

This feeling rising through his body was unlike anything N had ever felt before. When he was younger and his father would touch him, the sensation was never like this. He could do nothing but lay there as his father did these things to his body. The little pain that he was inflicting was overshadowed by the pleasure mounting in his limbs.

"Hnng, Ghetsis... it..." N managed to say through ragged breaths. "It... feels good...!" Ghetsis smiled maliciously, a smile N was not expecting. He said nothing as he continued, attempting diligently to hold back his own orgasm.

N's pants grew louder and more irregular. "Hah... it's so... argh, I'm..." He couldn't think straight enough to make coherent sentences. N was on the brink of climax, when-

it stopped.

"No!" N cried out pathetically as Ghetsis withdrew his hand away from his throbbing penis. Ghetsis couldn't help but laugh, continuing to grind into him, seeking his own pleasure now. N was losing the feeling, the wonderful feeling that had been swelling up inside him... he had to continue, he couldn't help himself.

Swiftly, N brought his tied hands down to his erection, pumping himself furiously. It bewildered Ghetsis, who relished the flustered face of his son. Utterly humiliated, N continued to jerk himself off until a feeling he had never experienced before flooded his body, making his pupils dilate and his body jerk violently. Strings of white fluid coated his chest and stomach as his body was wracked with pleasure.

N had just had his first orgasm.

The sight was enough to push Ghetsis over the edge. In mere seconds after his son, he too came hard into N's body, which was still tensing up around him. He nearly collapsed on top of N, who was panting hard, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. After moments of catching his breath, Ghetsis pulled out of him and untied his wrists.

He stood up and looked at his son with a face of disgust. N no longer had his face warped in pleasure like he had just minutes before. Tears were now flowing down his cheeks as he gasped for breath. N felt unbearably degraded and humiliated for allowing himself to masturbate to fruition in front of his father. He couldn't control himself enough. The shame of his lack of self-control hurt N deeply as he covered his face with his hands. He couldn't bear to have his father look at him any longer.

For Ghetsis, it was just what he had wanted. He threw his robes at him while he adjusted his clothing.

"Clean up," he stated coldly, "and cover yourself. You already ruined those robes with your blood. Might as well put it to _some_ use now."

Ghetsis unlocked the door and exited N's room, stepping on a split green block along the way. The block broke in half and lay in two pieces.

N wrapped himself up in his father's cloak, shakily sat up and looked around at the mess of blocks around him. Slowly, he began to rebuild his castle, tears still trickling down his face.

When he found his green block snapped in half, N threw it across the room.

There was no place for anything broken in his castle.


End file.
